


flume

by hectorpriamides



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: 2nd Person, Mentions of FEH, Multi, Trans Robin in passing, i don’t know what this is., reflective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 15:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18663496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hectorpriamides/pseuds/hectorpriamides
Summary: you are not unique. for each finger, there is another robin. for each of their fingers, there is another robin





	flume

You are not unique. Askr highlights this. You are sent home soon. You were not desired for.

-

You slip away from a Ylissean celebration full of nobles (Ricken And Maribelle make the evening easier, but it isn’t the same) and finery and royalty and step out onto the balcony, full clothed in the finery benefiting the consort of the Exalt. This time, you are the Prince-Consort.

But you look down at your gloved fingers; you know for each finger, there exists one of you for each finger, and for each of their ten fingers, ten more, a spiraling network of Fell Dragons and Tacticians. You are not always Robin—sometimes you are Kestrel, Sparrow, Tiercel. Sometimes your hair is pink. Sometimes you tower over the rest of the army. Sometimes you cannot see over Ricken. Sometimes your hair rivals Lissa’s. 

Sometimes, sometimes, you are you. Robin. Not too much, barely too little. White hair, dull eyes, living with the knowledge of what you have and haven’t done and will and will not do.

You are the Fell Dragon. You aren’t the Fell Dragon.

Each of you loves Chrom, always, hopelessly devoted to the well meaning, dense prince-turned-Exalt. You do not always wed him, but you stay the dearest of dears. You marry any, it seems, from Aversa to Noire to Inigo to Lucina— 

Sometimes, Lucina and Morgan are yours, regardless of _you_ by the day _,_  sometimes a peasant girl gets to become the mother to the heir apparent. There is too much to say who you are. You are nothing. You are everything. You are Chrom’s right hand man, his wife, his best friend.

Always, Tharja loves you. Sometimes, you love her. 

Sometimes, you cannot ignore the Grimleal burning inside you, and Tharja comes to close to hating it almost as much as she loves you.

You are always in that field. You never left that field. Music swells in the background, and you hear Frederick’s voice warning Chrom and Lissa. You are the field: your hand clasps Chrom’s, you are killing Chrom.

You marry Chrom.

Emmeryn dies, and only comes back a few times.

You are always wrong. You are always right. 

**Author's Note:**

> attend therapy or use ff to work out my trauma?
> 
> i hope you’re ready, robin


End file.
